Post by Lance Ulrich on Apr 26, 2010 14:33:54 GMT -8
Lance quirked a brow as Isabelle psychoanalyzed him. It was a little "scary" how close to home she hit, but he didn't let that emotion show but rather mere regard. "If you're that good at psychoanalysis, Miss Dubois, you'd be good in quite a number of fields. Tread lightly but carry a big stick, hmm?" He allowed himself a brief pause as though to let that sink in a bit but rather to figure out how to derail from the topic. Like most people, being psychoanalyzed was not something he truly enjoyed in certain instances. "I'm afraid I'm not quite so skilled in said field myself, but I do say your avoidance in providing even a hint at your desired future occupation could be misinterpreted as uncertainty rather than slyness if you're not careful." It was true. He believed otherwise, obviously. Her actions thus far hinted she knew what she was doing and just how to keep mystery going, but it was a way of attempting to play on the pride she was likely to have to gain an answer.
The Ravenclaw began to walk again. Standing around talking was nice, but they could just as easily continue this conversation while walking. Besides, moving lessened the chance of eavesdroppers who were curious about this unfamiliar beauty and perhaps would free her tongue at least a little. He wasn't foolish enough to believe her mouth would suddenly become a waterfall of words, though. That, frankly, would be disappointing anyway. He liked her self-restraint and calculation in word choice. It was a trait few possessed (especially girls, not to be sexist), unfortunately, so it was definitely refreshing to see it displayed by Isabelle.
((So, to avoid rambling and/or being late to band, cutting it a little short, but if I wait any longer to leave, I honestly will have the director mad. Concert's Friday. Doesn't want anyone late!))